The Disruptor’s Guide to Succeeding in Trump’s Post-Apocalyptic Greater America

I guess you could say my journey as a disruptor began in Year Twelve of Greater America. I was in Trump Square on a Tuesday. I'm not sure what time it was because my gold watch, like all the others, had been melted down to make a codpiece so large it could be seen from China. Anyway, I know it was a Tuesday, because that was book-burning day.

I was dancing around the book fire when it hit me. I turned to my friend Marty and I screamed, "Marty! Why are we burning all the books?!" And Marty screamed, "Because it's Tuesday!" And I screamed, "But, Marty, why don't we use the books as padding to protect ourselves against spear attacks and burn all the trees instead?!"

Marty just laughed at me like I was crazy and started waving his penis at the fire. But I was undeterred.

I know that my innovation seems laughably dated now. But you have to remember that, back then, the only disruptive technology we had was dysentery. When someone was trying to spear you, your best option was either to cower behind a tree or to run around one screaming. But I've always been an outside-the-box kind of person, so the next morning I rounded up a few books and tied them to my torso with some bear entrails I'd been saving to make a noose in case things got really bad. (A neighboring tribe had by this point taken all our rope.)

When I went outside wearing my invention, everyone laughed some more. But, sure enough, when someone tried to spear me, the spear didn't go through. "Eureka!" I screamed. I screamed again when the attacker plunged the spear into my leg seconds before Marty crushed his skull with a truck axle. But, even horribly wounded, I couldn't have been happier. I felt like President Trump when he discovered electricity while flying his golden kite.

We all know what happened next: the "iPad," as I named it, changed everything, and I became the richest one-legged man in Greater America.

And I did it all by working hard, staying positive, and believing in myself. If I could say one thing to all you budding entrepreneurs out there, it'd be: always believe in yourself.

And, sure, I'd be lying if I told you that the years that followed were without occasional setbacks. Did the iPad unleash an ecological catastrophe the scale of which no one could have possibly imagined? I don't know. I'm not a scientist. But certainly we had some challenges sourcing the bear entrails, which drove our mortality rate back up to pre-iPad levels. And, yes, switching to what we believed was a more sustainable material—dog entrails—just wiped out all the dogs that used to protect our livestock from bears. And, yes, burning trees on Tuesdays instead of books may have triggered our endless cycle of dust storms and famine.

But, as Marty told me one day between dust storms, "John, there are no crises. Only opportunities.” He went on, "For instance, I'm making a replacement wife out of all the hair and teeth I lost. Isn't she pretty?"

"She's very pretty," I told him, quietly donning my iPad.

"Her name is Loretta," Marty said. "And she says you were sent here to kill us all."

Marty was absolutely right about how innovators see opportunity where others just see crisis. His wisdom inspired me to create "Facebook": the book you hold over your face to protect your eyes from dust storms. Of course, that turned out to be an imperfect solution for a cliff-side community such as ours (R.I.P., Marty and Loretta), and our efforts to achieve an economy of scale led to a book shortage, which forced us to suspend iPad production, which, coupled with the fact that all the trees were gone, ultimately led to a ten-thousand-per-cent increase in spear deaths.

But, as any true creative will tell you, sometimes you have to fail big. And it's in that spirit that I stand before you today, next to our last remaining apple tree, to unveil my latest creation. It's the culmination of my life's work, the epitome of elegant, forward-looking design—a seamless marriage of form and function.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the "Apple Watch." The first watch to be made entirely of apples. It is the future. It will change everything. Line forms to the left.